Invasion of Indifference
by RedKinoko
Summary: Chronicles of two Biomechanical Organoid Tactical Slave B.O.T.S. hunters of Rune Midgard as they try to seek out the root cause of the evolution of their enemies. [Cancelled]
1. Overture

**Overture: The War, The Pact and The Guardianus Mundi **

Once upon a time, a war broke out between the Gods and the Titans. How the war started and when it would ever end, no mortal knew. Battles were fought all over the world in epic proportions. Lands were ravaged, leaving behind nothing more than scorched earth in their wake.

In the middle of this war stood mankind, who favored no side and cared for only their own lots. They suffered the most but in complacency.

At some point during the war, the scales tipped badly in favor of the Titans. The Gods, desperate and vastly outnumbered, struck a pact with the humans, granting them powers beyond their original inert abilities in exchange for aiding the losing side. The humans, being tired of the seemingly endless war, finally decided that they avail of the pact.

The Gods, now aided by their new allies, quickly turned the table and completely crushed the titan armies. The war was won in no time.

The great struggle was now over. With the titans gone and nobody to use their newfound powers against, man started brooding over their long-kept envy of the Gods.

This envy was no greater than in the largest kingdoms of Rune Midgard, Glast Heim and Gato Byalan. The chance they had been waiting for to fight the Gods on an even ground had come.

Or so it seemed.

Suffice to say, the inevitable new war broke out. Men sympathetic to the cause rallied to the call of the two kingdoms. The war went on for two months, with man seemingly gaining the upper hand on their foes.

But man, even with his God-given strength, was no match for the fury of the war-weary Gods. At a high cost for the Gods, Byalan was sunk at the bottom of the sea along with all of its inhabitants. Glast Heim, on the other hand, was cursed, it's inhabitants denied by both life and the Valkiries's power of death.

The Gods, fearing that the rest of mankind follow suit, broke the pact they had stricken during the war and secretly spread put limiting spells on all human beings. With the limiters in place, the **gottermacht** (God's strength) could no longer be used.

This, however, was not the case for all men. One clan, who had aided the Gods even before the pact, retained their powers. The Gods, tired of meddling with men, resigned themselves to the far planes of Asgard and instructed the most loyal clan to steward over men.

The family lived on, passing their role and abilities from one generation to another.

The name of their clan, **Guardanus Mundi** - Guardians of the World.


	2. Bounty Hunters

**Invasion of Indifference**

_The greatest irony in life is how we spend our lives struggling in vain to escape the one thing that defines our existence - imperfection. _

**Chapter 1 Bounty Hunters: **

At the end of the Reunification War, a smoking armistice forged by the mysterious Rune Midgard Committee for the countries of Payon, Prontera, Geffen, and Morroc was all that was preventing Midgard from being set ablaze again by the resumption of war.

What followed was a period of uneasy peace, but it was peace nonetheless. And for all the citizens who couldn't care any less of which nation was mightier than the other, it was all they were asking for. 

Normal life couldn't be any more normal.

At least, that was what everybody was hoping for. Trouble is never far away from peace. With the loss of so many of the security forces of the nations because of the war, all manner of dangers came forth the woodwork - bandits, fiends previously suppressed by constant hunting, and other threatening forces never before seen started appearing in distant towns and sowed terror where they could.

The strong call for protection gave new life to a long dead profession - mercenarial work or bounty hunting. Suddenly, warriors coming home from the war found themselves doing for money to survive what they once did for patriotism. It wasn't much of a livelihood, but when your hands are stained with blood, being a chooser will just make your stomach grumble.

Our story starts with two such hunters in the remote forest village of Chrimville slightly outside the borders of Prontera as they searched for a target that they specialised in killing -

"Is that him?" A rash voice of an adolescent male echoed from the darkness of the forest.

"He fits the description," replied a much more reserved feminine voice.

The thick canopy of the trees barely allowed any moonlight to highlight their target from the shrubberies. A faint figure of a man with a sword in hand walking slowly along a barely visible path between the tree lines could be seen from the faint glow of the night.

"I don't think Caucasian swordsman with a medium built is a very good description for a target. He could be anybody."

"It's past midnight. Who would be walking in these woods without any company?"

"We need to take a closer look. There's only one way to tell if he's one of them. We can't keep on screwing up if we want to keep our jobs."

"You do it then. I'll take point."

A kid no older than seventeen with hair barely standing out of the viridian grown of moss beside the tree he was pressing his cloaked body into slipped sideways and peered at his target.

"Why do I have to always do the dirty work?" he spoke to a nearby shrub.

A pony-tailed lass moved out of the shrubbery, her carmine hair firmly rested on one of her shoulders . Her eyes gleamed with what little light that came through from the leaf openings above. On the other shoulder rested a queer-looking crossbow no wider than a double-handed sword but almost as long as a war pike.

"It's in your job description, Adrian. You're the bait; I'm the trap. Don't worry, Engelmacht never misses," replied the woman who appeared to be clothed in the usual huntress attire of skimpily cut leather cladding.

"That's what worries me, how it never misses but half-guesses its targets. I think I'll just pretend you didn't say anything." Adrian pulled out two daggers from his coat. Each one, attached to chains twined in his arms. "Here we go."

The huntress peered into the sight glass attached at the end of her weapon and trained her weapon towards the slow-moving target. "Sights are hot."

Adrian moved out of the tree groove and rushed towards the outline of the figure. His controlled breathing fogged the air. After fifteen paces, the figure stopped walking and turned at the aggressor.

A shard of moonlight painted the face of the target as Adrian closed in. He was indeed Caucasian, and the sparkle from his infantry sword proved his warrior class. But it was his eyes that gave away his identity; each eye had a concentric iris of yellow and green.

At a moment's notice, the swordsman started running away from its assassin. Adrian kept up pursuit as they disappeared into the woods.

Meanwhile, the huntress found herself losing the target from her scope. He was running too fast in a direction being blocked by more trees.

"Shit," she cursed to herself, "this is why I hate working in forests!"

"Come back here!" said Adrian as he struggled to keep up with the almost inhuman speed of the swordsman. 

A few hundred paces across the woods later, they ended up in an opening in the woods that was probably a camping ground of hunters in the glory days. The swordsman stopped and turned towards Adrian.

The assassin stooped a bit and caught three mouthfuls of air. "You're making this hard for me."

The swordsman spent no time to reply. It raised its sword and ran towards the assassin. Adrian saw this in less than an eye's blink and ran towards the swordsman as well. The chains around his arms loosened as he twirled the daggers around his arms. "Let's make this quick and painless, not that you'd really care, right?"

The swordsman swung the sword down just as the assassin reached its range. The assassin threw his body in a sideway spin and avoided the swing by an inch. He planted his left foot into the grassy soil of the forest and used it to leverage his entire body for a strike as he flew beside the target.

At the last moment, he extended his blade and gaped a wound by the right side loin of the swordie. A spatter of fluid followed by scraping sound of metal against metal filled the forest floor.

"Crap, an armor-type!" shouted the assassin as he landed half crouched behind the swordsman.   
Almost having felt nothing, the swordsman retaliated with a low roundhouse against the defenseless assassin. Adrian couldn't do so much to evade the kick. The sheer power threw him off towards the surrounding trees, which almost cheered on the fight with their rustling branches and screaming leaves.

"This is going to be tougher than I expected," said Adrian as he wiped hints of blood from his mouth, "much tougher."

He got up and let the daggers drop halfway to the ground by holding the chains that were attached to them. Soon enough he was spinning them in a double whirlwind of blades.

The swordsman charged for a second strike. Adrian flashed a bloodstained smile and waited for the attack. "I'll show you Catena Flamenco in its first movement."

And then, the surprise of his life.

The swordsman picked up the pace and sped up twice its normal speed, catching the assassin off guard. Adrian's eyes widened as the raised blade approached him at a new rate.

Having broken his estimation, the assassin went for broke and threw his daggers at the enemy. The swordsman sidestepped with god-like prowess and caught both chains with his freed left hand.

Unable to move away because of the chain around his arms, Adrian braced for on last attempt at evasion. A second later he save the gleaming eyes of the swordsman staring at him from let than half an arms length, cold as death and not too far from its acquaintance.

In the end, he couldn't even move away from the death stare of his opponent. Too strong, too smart, too fast - it couldn't even have been possible for somebody to be like that, like a nightmare of the worst sort. The assassin closed his eyes as he prepared for his end.

A whip crackle sound filled the damp midnight air. A splash of warm fluid bathed Adrian's face. He opened his eyes shortly after and found the swordsman still staring at him point-blanc. He could even smell its pungent skin from the distance. He felt a cold brush of night wind sweep up his wet face.

Or perhaps it was what was on his face that he could smell. He felt his bodily parts with his hands - he wasn't bleeding yet. Five seconds later and the swordsman still didn't move.

Adrian finally got to breath easier.

"That was close, Primera! Too close in fact!"

The assassin pushed the motionless swordsman away from him. Life fluids gushed forth from the back of his torso from an opening the size of a small coin as the target fell to the ground lifeless. Adrian wiped his face with the cloak and kicked the swordsman.

"Damn you! You could've killed me, you know?" he mocked the target.

Primera the hunter placed rested her weapon by her shoulders. With more light shed into the weapon, it resembled a deformed crossbow with a dangerously short bowstring attached to a narrow frame. Two small canisters were attached the very end of the crossbow, each of them still smoking.

"I told you, Engelmacht never misses." 

Adrian got up and combed his hair with his fingers. "I thought you'd take point. Had you been later by a second, mister roboto over here would have given me a splitting headache I would never forget."

"Ain't you just the bonnie partner?" replied Primera with a slightly higher intonation, "I'm a sniper, Adrian. I'm supposed to shoot people or things from a stationary position. You made me run three hundred yards and gave me two seconds worth of time to align my sights. F.Y.I., I saved your ass even if it was out of my job description!" 

Adrian twirled the blades for them to coil around his arms again. "Fine, thank you for saving my life! Why does it always have to have something to do with job descriptions anyway?"

Primera didn't reply. She stooped down to further observe the fallen swordsman. She seriously examined the hole her bolt punched through the swordie. "This one's different from our other previous jobs, don't you think so?"

Adrian touched his left rib and with a hint of pain he replied yes.

The huntress pressed her finger into the fatal wound without any sign of disgust. "I used a depleted emperium bolt at thirty percent tension on this guy. Even if it is an armor-type  
we faced, the bolt would have gone through his body without much trouble. And his movement that he showed earlier was quite surprising too, don't you think? I suggest that we go back to the foundation, get our bounties and try to get more information about this."

"Right we should... WAIT! You mean to say you fired that shot even if it could have gone through that thing and killed me?"

"I figured you wouldn't have died from it anyway. I've seen you take worse."

"Why do I think that you did that to get the money for this?" 

"Apart from that possibility, I have faith in bad grass living longer that the rest."

The job was done, leaving a bounty left unclaimed. For Primera Griffenrove and Adrian Cathersade, it was just another night job as the few **Biomechanical Organoid Tactical Slave hunters of Rune Midgard. **

B.O.T.S. Hunters.

**End of Chapter. **


	3. The Foundation

**Chapter 2: The Foundation**

From the outside, the Foundation looks like a messianic ark sticking out of the drab backset of log-stripped mountains far south of the Pronteran capital. Its two towers overlook the Sograt desert not too far away. The white-grit finish of its walls gives it a sense of cleanliness amidst the clear signs of war all over the land. The untouched look of everything helps in lifting the moral heaviness of its function to civilised society in only superficially.

The Chimaeran Extermination Foundation - the Foundation, as everybody has come to call it - is a post-war organisation dedicated in acting as a broker of mercenarial jobs all over Midgard. It employs an unknown number of bounty hunters under its wing and rumor has it that it was established by none other than the peace-keeping committee.

"Ah, I just love this place," Adrian took one deep breath as he climbed the final step leading to the marble front of the megalithic structure, "this place, it reminds me of money."

"It's just like any other market. It reeks with the stench of butchery and it's infested with fleas," nonchalantly followed up a cranky Primera who followed the Assassin slowly.

Adrian turned at Primera and gave her the sure-find-whatever look, probably in tacit insistence that it's their livelihood nonetheless.

The inside of the structure was just as organised. A person who knew nothing about the Foudation would mistake its innards for a bank, waiting seats, counters and all that jazz.

"You wait here, and try not to pick fights with the other guys this time, will ya?" said Primera as she repositioned her oversized crossbow slung on her back. She proceeded to one of the counters as Adrian gave a thumbs up from a seat near the exit of the place.

"Hi! Welcome to the South Pronteran Branch of the Foundation. How may I help you?"

The uniformed clerk who appeared to be a young lady in her early teens looked bippity cheery when Primera stepped up the counter. She tried to force a smile and handed over a passcard and an odd engraved artifact no larger than a coin.

"Designation 10008048 and 10008049 reporting an accomplished mission. This is the core chip of target. Please verify."

The clerk looked at the huntress and slipped the chip into a transparent vial. She took the card and read the credentials.

"Primera Griffenrove and Adrian Cathersade, 118th unit of the Pronteran Sector entry confirmed. Current assignment of B.O.T.S. extermination has been acknowledged by the OVERSEER committee three hours ago," said the clerk as she ran through data flashing in a Geffenite glass screen in front of her. 

The huntress turned to see what her partner was doing. He was chatting with what appeared to be two other female hunters. Hopefully, nothing too troublesome, she said to herself.

The blue-haired clerk handed over a pouch that jangled as she extended her arm. "Congratulations. Agreed payment is fifty thousand zennies, thank you for working with the Foundation. We look forward to working with you on another assignment."

"Likewise," Primera opened the pouch on reception, counted fifteen green gems, closed the pouch and then walked away without so much as a thank you. There would be plenty of time for that later.

"Yeah, I heard Comodo is really nice at this time of the year. I just might be able to convince my scrooge-of-a-partner to come with me there sometime," Adrian went on with his mindless talking. The two girls, an acolyte and an apprentice mage listened in.

Primera overheard and feigned a cough to interrupt. "We got the payment. We should check up on Father Ayn regarding our last assignment."

Adrian took note and went on with finishing his talk, "Well, gotta go ladies. Thanks for the chat."

As the assassin and the huntress started walking away, the two girls who were talking to Adrian looked at each other.

"What was THAT all about?" asked the acolyte.

"I dunno. He just started blabbing away without even asking if we're interested. His lonely job class is probably getting to him. Assassins, heh," replied the mage as the stared at the 'sin walking away with Primera. 

Meanwhile, the Adrian and Primera headed up to one of the infirmary-looking offices on the second floor.

"So?"

Primera turned at Adrian,"So, what?"

"How did I do? I didn't fight with nobody this time around. I'm mister friendly now, aren't I?" Adrian sported an ear-to-ear smile.

"They looked too enthusiastic. You should have noticed that they were trying to hint you with blunt sarcasm. Having a personality of a week-old poring carcass isn't your fault. Acolytes and mages, heh!" 

"That's why you can never get a boyfriend, Prim. You never fail hit your targets, even when insulting other people," replied a just as indifferent Adrian with arms braced at the back of his neck, "My pickup conversation was well worth the try though."

They stopped at the end of the hall, in front of a room with a displayed "Fr. Ayn Kitchener" label at the side of the door.

"If you listen to yourself every now and then, you should know by now why Assassins aren't supposed talk."

**End of Chapter**


	4. The BOTS

**Chapter 3: The B.O.T.S.**

Adrian approached the door of the office and knocked three times.

"Come on in," A deep, hoarse voice came from inside. As Adrian opened the door, thick black smoke seeped out into the hallway.

Primera coughed a bit. "Damn, I think the old man's trying to recreate hell inside."

The fifteen square-meter room was quite a mess; with paperwork scattered everywhere and the window blinds partially blocking the morning sun, the place was a infernal dance floor of smoke and light.

"You know, that sort of smoking puts forests fires to shame," Adrian said as he went in. Primera followed shortly, covering her nose and mouth with a white handkerchief.

A burly priest with a crescent white crown of hair appeared sitting behind a mahogany table amidst the gray haze. On his roughly-shaven mouth was a lighted cigar while butts of several others littered a large ash tray directly in front of him. 

"Ah, Adrian and Prim, what can I do you for?" greeted the old man, paying no attention to the snide remarks.

"We need to ask if the Foundation has ID'ed a new model set of bots in the Chrimville area. Our last assignment looked like a new model. We're starting to have a hard time bringing them down," reported the huntress as she placed her weapon beside the visitor's couch. 

Ayn inhaled deeply and extinguished his half-finished cigar in the ashtray. His face didn't show any sign of distraught.

"No. The chips that have come from that hotspot show the same K.O.R.E. build. Maybe you just slipped a little during your last sortie," replied the priest with smoke coming out of his nostrils.

Adrian stepped forward. "I saw what I saw. The reflex of the last one was too sharp to be a glitch."

Tension built up along with the thick smoke.

"The bots that you're hunting right now are supposed to be remnants of the technomancers' division after their creator, Frederich Nanorov died during the siege of the Autovmat College of Geffen during the war. Since nobody's making them anymore, you shouldn't be encountering newer models like when the war was still on."

Adrian was silent. The old man was right. The bots that they hunted for a living were the ones left wandering in the wilds when their masters relinquished their dependency codes in an attempt to wreak chaos in the lands shortly after the war ended.

Biomechanical Organoid Tactical Slaves were developed during the reunification war in an attempt to replenish diminishing forces in the frontlines. While most attempts to build such bots ended up making very expensive marionettes that easily broke down, some of them eventually succeeded. But it was all too late. The Geffen surrendered and the war was ended shortly after bots were reported to have been sighted in the frontlines.

The moral aspect of B.O.T.S. proved too strong for any government. They were eventually outlawed by the Rune Midgard Council and strong sanctions were placed against their use. Most Creators who couldnt take the destruction of their art set loose the last of their creations before turning themselves in or killing themselves. And now, they, BOTS hunters are tasked with cleaning up the mess.

"But that doesn't explain why we keep on seeing improvements not only in their behavioural characteristics but also in their physical make-up. Adrian's right. These things have been getting better lately," added the huntress, "the new model took in an emperium slug and almost didn't die from it.

"Well, since you're the one that's telling me. I'll just have to take your word for it," replied the priest. He opened up a few folders from the shelf and started browsing through the pages." I'll let you know when I hear anything from the OVERSEER division."

"Thanks, old man," replied the Primera.

"I heard that, Ayn!" blurted Adrian, "Why can't you just for once take my word and believe it?"

The huntress and the priest laughed in harmony, almost to an insulting degree.

"Anyway, I've arranged a new job for you two tomorrow night in the Western Payon village of Rimuri. Until then, you should get yourselves rested. You should know the place quite well, Primera."

A bit disappointed, Primera picked up her weapon and opened the door. Knew the place? She's memorised it, "Thanks for the job, old priest."

"Adrian and Primera," Ayn said as the two were leaving, "you be careful out there. Nobody's sure of anything anymore nowadays."

The young assassin and the huntress nodded and took their leave.

**End of Chapter. **


	5. Rimuri

**Chapter 4: Rimuri**

The two bounty hunters wasted no time in going to their next mission area. The journey from Prontera to Payon at that time felt almost as though the war was still on. The ravaged countryside made the travel by foot no easier and strict clearance by the border of the two nations that were at war so recently added to the travel time.

"The Sea of Eternal Forests, Payon," said Adrian as he sniffed the mountain air rushing up from the gully beneath the cliff overlooking the fortress capital, "The air here is really nice, ain't it?"

Primera's stare was lost in the horizon of deep thought, "The lingering stench of gunpowder has desecrated this place."

"Gun powder?" Adrian sniffed more air," I dun smell no gunpowder."

Primera turned her back and started walking down the path leading to Rimuri, "Never mind. Let's just get going before it gets dark." 

Traces of war etched itself murals of madness all over the forest. Every now and then one would see sections of the forest burnt completely to the ground. Carcasses of animals littered the path. Acres of woods were blown in a outward circular formation with a large crater at its center - a reminder of the Gottenclaymoren, landmines the size of a house that could make an entire division vanish at a moment's notice.

The huntress stopped after a good three hours walk from the border clearance to examine a patch of shrubs.

"There's a shortcut down this trail. We can cut the travel time by an hour," Primera pointed to an narrow rive at the middle of a set of igneous rocks that couldn't have been identified as a path even by the more experienced rangers.

The sun was setting already and Adrian knew the terrain no better than an Obeaune would. He just nodded and followed the huntress into the dark pathway.

"Say Prim, Father Ayn was right, you really do know this place very well."

The huntress proceeded towards the narrower sections of the woods. "Like the back of my hand."

Adrian could only half-guess why. The most unique thing about their partnership is that they both knew nothing of each other's pasts. The trust they had for each other despite the dont-care nature of their partnership was rather unique. Call it a soldier's intuition - a gut trust for comrades that you develop with the radical nature of war.

"I used to complete runs using this path on a moonless night in under ten minutes back when the war was still raging," opened up Primera. It wasn't like her to mention anything about the distant past. In fact, for the duration of their partnership, it was the first time she actually mentioned something at least minutely related to her before they started bounty hunting.

Adrian silently looked at the place. Even with the sun still within the horizon the place was barely lighted already.

"Why don't we play a little game? I'll try to do this path as quickly as I did during the war and let's just see if you can keep up!" playfully challenged the huntress while looking back at the following assassin.

Adrian's heart beat faster. Forests weren't really his thing. As a full-blooded Morrocan, it was only natural to have distaste for the current surroundings. But it was too late. A blink of an eye later, Primera was running off into the thick jungle.

"Dammit! Wait up!"

It wasn't a boast to say that Adrian was faster than Primera. He had outrun her so many times before but somehow, the terrain worked totally for her this time around. She slipped from one path to another, almost swinging from tree to tree as she fluidly moved with the uneven terrain.

Before long, he could only hear footsteps growing fainter by the second. The path was starting to slope down dangerously. So much so that he was no longer avoiding the protruding branches and roots - he was dodging them. 

"For crying out loud, Primera, I don't want to get killed before my assignment!"

And then, light.

A horizon of miniscule trees and looming mountains painted crimson by the setting sun exploded into his sight.

A firm arm stopped Adrian from his avalanching descent. And at the right time at that. Had he stepped any further, he looked down, he would have plummeted down a dark ravine like the loose rocks at his feet. Beyond the ravine was a small town amidst the sea of green Payon was famous for.

"Easy does it, desert boy. You dont want to end up like many a Pronteran ranger who thought it wise to pass by here," insulted Primera as she pushed the assassin back, "Anyway, that's the town of Rimuri beyond this ravine. You can use our supply vines to go down there. But I suggest we stay for the night here." 

The young assassin looked around and found a clearing suitable for camping out. He was in deep thought at that time. He thought about his partner; come to think of it, he really knew nothing about her.

Adrian dropped his knapsack beneath a tree and started scouting the surrounding area. "This place looks safe enough. I'll go look for some firewood. Mountains can become very cold at night." 

And although Adrian couldn't put a finger to it, he knew something was different with the huntress since they came to Payon. Well, he knew enough that she was Payonese but nothing else.

"No need," Primera replied. She took out her dagger and cut off a layer of vines around a dark section of the opening and revealed a wooden structure, complete with windows, doors and a straw roof," This place should be big enough for both of us."

"Could you please tell me what the hell is a cabin doing in a travel-forsaken place like this?"

Primera turned at Adrian and smiled warmly as she opened the door of the wooden dwelling. It was the first time he had seen such a smile from her since they started working together.

"Because this was my home away from home during the war."

**End of Chapter. **


End file.
